


handcuffs in the bottom drawer

by lohoron



Series: Jared/Richard One Shots [3]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Awkward Encounter, Edging, Established Relationship, Kinky, M/M, Praise Kink, bit of crack, bit of smut, dinesh and gilfoyle being assholes, jared deserves the world, richard being confident????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohoron/pseuds/lohoron
Summary: Jared hadn't asked to pull them out in quite a while. They've been good, satisfied, with their usual sex life.But after a really, really long day at work (Jared had to talk to Tracy from HR twice; once about having his office not moved further from Richard and once about showing less physical affection in the workspace), Jared sat down on Richard’s floor and looked up with his pretty, pleading eyes and whimpered, “Do anything to me, please?”
Relationships: Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks
Series: Jared/Richard One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011459
Kudos: 20





	handcuffs in the bottom drawer

They only tried it once, really.

There was something exciting about being restrained, taken advantage of. Jared loved the idea of being told to stay in place and be helplessly feeble. 

So maybe they tried it more than once.

The first time was at Jared’s condo. Richard had brought them with a blush scattered across his cheeks as he told Jared to turn around and put his wrists together. Jared gasped when he felt the metal hit his skin. And it all went from there, really.

A few times, Richard had simply cuffed Jared to the frame of his lofted bed. Completely naked. While he himself got dressed, or while he jerked himself off in front of him, or once while he fucked Jared right on the floor like some fucking animal. 

So, yeah, they did like the handcuffs. Richard liked exploring Jared’s body while he helplessly writhed around. Jared liked having his body explored while helplessly writhing around.

They’re kept safely in Richard’s bottom desk drawer, underneath a stack of empty manila folders (it was the best coverup Richard could think of). 

Jared hadn't asked to pull them out in quite a while. They've been good, satisfied, with their usual sex life. 

But after a really, really long day at work (Jared had to talk to Tracy from HR twice; once about having his office not moved further from Richard and once about showing less physical affection in the workspace), Jared sat down on Richard’s floor and looked up with his pretty, pleading eyes and whimpered, “Do anything to me, please?” 

And now he's laying down on the mattress on the floor, arms locked together above his head. His shirt has been removed, as has his sweater vest, and he's wearing an excited smile as Richard stares down at him. 

“How's your day been, baby?” Richard whispers soothingly, caresses the skin of Jared’s chest with nothing but his fingertips. Jared wiggles, taking a deep breath in.

“Hm. Not great today,” Jared mumbles, staring up at Richard with so much want. _Ruin me. I deserve it. Ruin me, Richard. I beg of you._

“We’ll change that, yeah?” Richard mutters softly, his mouth now pressing soft kisses against Jared’s collarbones. Jared nods, corners of his mouth tweaking into a smile. “You’re such a good boy. Don't… you don't deserve to have bad days. Ever.” 

Jared shuts his eyes in humility, chest puffing. “Oh, I want you to say it… say it for me, baby. That… that you're a good boy,” Richard pleads, his thumb soothing the divet in his chest. Jared shakes his head softly, wiggling his toes. “C’mon. For me. My good boy.”

Richard kisses him once, gentle and comforting. “Oh, Richard, I’m not. Not a good boy. Hmpf,” Jared cries out, his eyes watering. Richard kisses against his cheeks, hands softly caressing the inside of Jared’s bicep. 

“No, no. You are. I promise,” he responds, sitting on his knees next to the mattress. “Just once. Tell me just once.” 

Jared whimpers and shuts his eyes, breathing out a hot and hesitant breath before whimpering, “I’m…. I’m your good boy, Richard.” He cringes.

(No. I'm not. No. I'm bad and I touch you too much and I’m so overbearing and I want it all to just stop so that I can be normal and so that you can get the attention you deserve without feeling smothered. Oh, I’m not a good boy at all. Forgive me for lying. Please. Please forgive me.)

Richard hums, kissing down Jared’s tummy. “Yes you are, baby.” He looks up as he reaches Jared’s belt buckle, nudging his nose below it. “Gonna make you… _let you_ feel nice.”

Jared almost cries when he feels Richard undo his belt. He's moving so slowly, so precisely. It's driving him insane, leaving him struggling to even be fully engaged.

(All he can think about is his irresponsibility at work. If Tracy noticed his PDA, it must be bad. It must be. He's such a bad coworker. Oh, he's the worst.)

But then Richard's clammy hand is caressing his bare inner thigh and he forgets for just a second. “Relax. You deserve to relax,” Richard whispers, kissing Jared’s thigh and nuzzling his nose against his semi-hard cock. Jared shudders and lets the handcuffs dig deep inside of the skin on his wrists. “Tell me what you want. I want. I… I wanna please you.”

“Oh, oh, anything you want is fine. Anything you'd like to do to me,” Jared whimpers back as Richard pushes Jared’s khakis off of him. 

“No, no,” Richard cooes, kissing Jared’s jagged hipbone, “What _you_ want. You give me so much. Always do. Wanna… I wanna return that.”

Jared turns red, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his lips. “I… I want your fingers inside me. Please?”

(Richard can truly never hear the word please again without thinking about Jared’s beautifully flushed face.)

Richard grins and nods, “What else would you like me to do, pretty?” His breath is hot against Jared’s boxers, ghosting over his growing erection. Jared’s breath hitches, rocking his hips against Richard’s face.

“Ah. Suck me. Too. Please? If you want?” Richard smiles up and nods, biting very, very softly against the fabric of his underwear. 

“And you're gonna… are you gonna ask me when you can cum? Like… like a good boy? Like a good little slut?” Jared shivers, nodding as goosebumps raise on his skin. Richard has only been like this -- so super sensual; saying the exact right things to make Jared feel out of his mind -- about two times before. It's always such a pleasant experience. He loves it just as much as silly-voiced, desperately anxious Richard. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll be your good boy,” he confirms, mouth dropping open as Richard licks below the dip of his belly button. “Please. Just. Please.”

“Oh, baby, so desperate.” Richard’s voice is sweet like honey, making Jared melt away. He pulls the band of Jared’s boxers down, so that just the head of his cock is sticking up, flushed against his stomach. “Look at you, honey. So hard. Barely touched you.”

Jared is rapidly getting more and more impatient. He wants it now. Wants Richard's fingers. And his mouth. Oh, he wants Richard everywhere. “Yes. Yeah. I… You make me lose my exhibitions. I flourish under your touch. Ah. Aaah,” Jared whines as Richard kitten licks the tip of his cock. 

Richard smiles up, watching as Jared’s eyelids flicker closed. 

(This is what he wants. He wants Jared’s worries to just melt away for a little bit. Just for a little bit. He wants to help Jared be okay for the rest of his fucking life. But this is all he can do right now.)

“My baby,” Richard whispers, circling his tongue against the slit of Jared’s erection. Jared shivers, red and embarrassed. Richard pulls his boxers down all the way, Jared’s cock hitting the cold air of Richard’s room. “Such a pretty boy. Hm.” His tongue hits the side of Jared’s erection, licking a stripe all the way up. Jared whimpers loud, rocking his hips against Richard’s face.

“Oooooh, hm. Richard. So good,” he cries, the cold metal of his restraints making his tummy tickle inside. Richard takes Jared’s head inside his mouth, staring up. “Ha-- hmmm. You have such a wonderful mouth.”

Richard’s hands reach to cup Jared’s balls gently, soothing over them sensitively. Jared feels fucking insane. One of Richard’s fingers teases at his hole as he takes his mouth off of Jared’s cock, smiling up. “Tell me what you want, baby,” Richard asks again, two fingers teasingly circling around Jared’s fluttering hole.

“Ah,” Jared cries out, cock twitching against his stomach, “Fingers. Pleaase?”

“And where do you want my fingers, baby boy?” He licks against Jared’s testicles, the slow and methodical swipe making Jared feel like he might die. 

“Richard, please,” he whines, “Please, please, please.” 

Richard grins, and then sits back completely, hands and fingers and tongue and everything separated from any surface of Jared’s body. Jared cries out, wringing his hips.

“No, no! Ooooh, please. I want your fingers inside of me, please, please. Don't leave. Don't stop. I want-- so bad. Please?” Jared’s pleads make Richard’s cock twitch heavy in his pants, licking his lips as he gets up from the spot he was sitting at. Jared feels tears prickling in his eyes (Oh, God, he wants it so bad. He needs it so bad). “Don't go, no, no, please! I’m-- I can't wait. Please?”

Richard towers over Jared, fumbling to get his jeans off. “I'm right here,” Richard promises, smiling. He zips his hoodie down (agonizingly slow, if you ask Jared), and throws it on the floor next to his jeans. “Seeing you… like this. So… pretty. And desperate. God, it's gotten me so hard. Heh.” He palms his erection on top of his boxer briefs, getting down to his knees next to Jared’s head.

Jared’s breathing heavy, kicking his feet around to get some sort of pressure on his cock. He swallows his breath as he stares at Richard, with his eyes so lustful and dark and he’s immediately dizzy. “Gosh, I-- please. I want you. Please. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be such a good boy,” Jared begs as Richard’s fingertips trail up and down his chest, his thumb circling around his hard nipples. Jared moans loud, body shooting forward involuntarily.

“Holy fuck, Jared,” Richard whispers, pressing a kiss against Jared’s sweaty forehead, “your pretty little cock is leaking. So sensitive.”

Jared looks down, his erection trembling against his stomach as pre-come drips from his slit. “Please,” he cries once more, staring at Richard with beautifully urgent eyes. “Please, please, please.”

Richard grins, letting go of Jared again and moving his way back to his old position. He moves Jared’s legs so that they're spread apart, bended at the knees. “Since you've asked so nicely.”

He lathers two of his fingers with his tongue, the visual slow and deliberate. Jared is going insane. Richard is driving him insane. 

He prods his middle finger against Jared’s hole, slowly sliding the tip in. Jared whimpers immediately, bracing himself. 

Without warning, Richard shoves his first finger all the way in, letting Jared shock up and cry out a loud moan. Fuck. He hooks his finger. Fuck. He takes Jared’s leaking tip into his mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Gosh, Richard. You're-- magnificent. Oh. Oh,” Richard’s second finger joins quickly as he slams them in and out, in and out, taking more of Jared’s cock while looking up at his boy. Jared twists his head from side to side, chest heaving. He's already so close. How fucking embarrassing.

Once Richard’s fingers find Jared’s prostate, it basically feels like game over. “Oh, yes. Yes, Richard, there, please. Again, again. Ooooh.”

Jared revels in the feeling of being spread open, ruined. Richard adds a third finger and pops his mouth off of Jared’s dick, grinning up at him with a small trail of saliva following his lips. “Taking it so well. My pretty… pretty little slut. Do you wanna cum yet, Jared? Are you gonna cum yet?” Richard asks, holding Jared’s hip with his free hand and twisting his fingers, hitting Jared’s prostate again and again and again and Jared nods frantically. 

The cuffs burn his wrists. He pants out, “Yes, yes, please. Can I please? I have to. I need… I want to cum. Please. Let me, please?” while forcing his hips down against Richard’s fingers, tears springing in his eyes.

“Oh, not yet, baby. Wait just a minute,” Richard grins, not stopping for a second. Jared stretches his neck, swiveling his hips as he moans loud and open (yeah, there's totally other people home, and yeah, Jared’s going to regret being so loud in a few minutes, but right now, it’s the only thing that feels right). 

“I can't, I _can't,_ please. Now. Now. I’m-- Ahhh!” Jared feels Richard’s hand squeeze his cock, and he’s tightening every fucking muscle to ensure that he doesn't cum. Not before Richard allows it. Not before.

“Be a good boy,” he whispers, spreading his fingers apart inside of Jared, “and hold on for me. Just a little bit longer.”

Jared nods, whimpering helplessly as his cock slowly drips. God, he's trying so hard to hold it all in. He's trying so fucking hard. He's shaking with anticipation, Richard’s name pouring out of his mouth. 

Richard strikes his little bundle of nerves and Jared cries, biting down on his bottom lip. “Okay,” Richard starts, letting go of Jared’s cock slowly, “cum for me, baby.”

And oh, does Jared obey. He cries, “Thank you, thank you, oh, Richard, thank you, gosh, thank you.”

He’s barely conscious as Richard pounds his fingers against his prostate, shocking him forward as he cums in thick white strips all across his tummy. He stretches his back, arching it off the mattress. Cum reaches his fucking chin. He's not even sure when it starts or when it ends because he is completely delirious. So thankful. So fucking thankful.

His thighs are still shaking when Richard removes his fingers, wiping them quickly on the mattress before reaching up to spread the cum on Jared’s chest over Jared’s nipples. Jared has tears in his eyes. 

“My pretty boy,” Richard smiles, kissing Jared’s shaky thighs. “Did so good for me. Good boy. Hmm.”

Jared can’t stop panting, his chest heaving as his head goes woozy. His cock is still twitching. His lips are red and parted and Richard can't fucking look away from it all. He presses kisses up Jared’s body until he nestles his nose against his neck, sucking a soft hickey. 

“Oooh,” Jared cries out, muscles sore and tense and relaxed all at the same time, “That was. Richard… that was marvelous. The greatest. I’m… thank you.”

Richard strokes his thumb against Jared’s jaw, lifting his own head up to press a wet kiss against Jared’s mouth. “Thank _you_ ,” Richard smiles, laying down close next to Jared, “You're so beautiful.”

Jared’s cheeks heat up, squeezing his eyes closed. His wrists still ache above him as his breathing finally starts to even out. 

“Will you watch me finish myself off?” Richard asks softly, breath hot against Jared’s ear. Jared shivers and nods. 

(Richard is truly the only person that has ever made him feel this way. He's had sex so many different ways; many of them similar to this. But nothing has felt as relieving as Richard forcing him to admit that he's not evil. That he's good. Nothing has felt as rewarding as Richard asking him what he wants and giving it to him so whole-heartedly. Nothing. Nothing feels as good as being loved by Richard Hendricks.)

\---

Dinesh is looking for his USB.  
It has the oldest build of Pied Piper on it, and while Gilfoyle and him got a little stoned, they decided that they really, really wanted to see it.

First, he looks in his room. Every drawer, every surface, in the closet, under the bed, inside of his pillow covers. Nowhere. Then he looks in Gilfoyle’s room (with Gilfoyle by his side; no way that he’d be allowed alone in there). Nowhere to be found.

The main room where Richard is comfortably working while glancing at Jared, also comfortably working, lovingly, is next. He looks on the table, underneath the table, on the bar, at his desk, at Richard’s space, everywhere.

And then he decides it’s easiest to ask. 

“Where is that one USB? The… duck shaped one? First build of Pied Piper?” Dinesh asks Richard slowly, only realizing what words he’s said after they’re out of his mouth. Funny.

Richard frowns. “No clue. Uh. Maybe my room?” He says, shrugging, and just as Dinesh and Gilfoyle start to head towards Richard’s room, he hesitantly squeaks out, “Oh, and-- uh. Please don’t… uh-- like, look in the last drawer. It’s- uh... not in there. There’s a lot of… senior management stuff there. So, uh. Don’t. Look. Thanks.” 

(Bullshit, Dinesh thinks, that boy is up to some hanky panky.)

The all-knowing glare Dinesh and Gilfoyle exchange is inevitable. 

“You got it, Dick.”

“Okay, Richard, we won’t look in the last drawer,” Dinesh smiles, pacing quickly towards the door. Once it’s shut, Dinesh lets out a laugh. “We are _so_ looking in that fuckin’ drawer,” he pants out, immediately opening it up.

A stack of manilla folders. Dinesh sighs in defeat, realizing that Richard was probably not lying. That it’s actually boring CEO stuff. “It’s just folders,” Dinesh groans, staring back at Gilfoyle who is completely spaced out.

Dinesh continues his search for the USB, opening Richard’s other drawers (ugh, he really needs to clean inside his nightstand drawers), when Gilfoyle does his stupid, even-sounding laugh. “What?” 

“Look,” Gilfoyle grins, holding a pair of handcuffs, Dinesh laughs loudly, “Those _fuckers_ ,” he pauses a second.

“Literally!” 

It’s only twenty seconds later that the two of them are walking into the main room, Dinesh holding the cuffs behind his back. 

Richard’s foot is tapping anxiously and he’s biting down hard on his bottom lip as he looks up at them. “So, did ya… uh- find it?” 

“Oh, we found _something_ ,” Dinesh laughs, revealing the handcuffs that he’s holding. 

Jared’s eyes go wide as his concerned gaze flies over to Richard. Richard looks like he’s gonna be sick. “Oh, Lord,” Jared mumbles out, quickly racing to the kitchen to pour a glass of water from the Brita filter. 

“I-- uhm-- I… We can… explain,” Richard whispers dryly, eyes searching desperately for Jared despite knowing that he’s in the kitchen. 

“Yes. Please do,” Gilfoyle panders, sitting down at the bar. Dinesh joins him. “Who does what? Dinesh and I made bets.”

Richard is bright red, blood rushing to his head quickly as Jared races back into the room with a glass of water, which Richard immediately and gratefully accepts. Jared sits down in the chair right next to Richard, wheeling himself closer so that he can rest a hand on his shoulder. “Guys-- heh, yeah-- uh. Funny. I- Uh. But. Please. Stop. Like. Now. It’s- uh-- yeah. Please.” 

Dinesh (the prick that he is), shakes his head and continues, “See, I think Richard wears and Jared tears.”

“Wh- what the fuck does that… even… what does that even mean?” Richard cringes, gulping down the rest of the water a tad too quickly. “I-- this is… it’s like. Private. Not cool. I just-- please stop.”

“We deserve to know the details of your sex life,” Gilfoyle adds, “We hear you both every time. So. Spill the beans. You can’t pick and choose what to keep private.”

“Yes, we can!” Richard grunts, digging his fingernails into his arm. 

“C’monnnn. Just bros talking to bros. Tell usssss. Please, please, please, pleeeaaasee?” Dinesh whines, putting his hands together and begging. Jared is soothing his thumb against Richard’s collarbone, trying to ensure that he doesn’t panic, doesn’t throw up, or doesn’t get too angry. Even if he has every right to be.

This is a blatant violation of their privacy, Jared agrees.

“You know that I value your friendship and enjoy your company,” he starts, pointing at Dinesh and Gilfoyle with a kind smile on his face, “But this is crossing a boundary. We are all still at work. And this is quite personal.”

“We’re not friends,” Gilfoyle dead-pans, crossing his arms, “And I think Jared is the one that gets cuffed.”

Jared turns red, humility catching up to him. 

They switch in most every other context, really, but it’s always Jared with the handcuffs. Oh, he just loves the way it transforms Richard so much. He loves the confidence it gives him. Loves the words Richard says when he’s in power, so incredibly in power. 

“Fifty dollars riding on this,” Dinesh mutters, “I think it’s Richard.”

(“Are you kidding me? Dick is a control freak.” “Have you seen Jared? He’s so… tall and… weirdly shaped. He’d never be able to bottom.” “This isn’t about bottoming. It’s about who handcuffs who.” “Well, yeah, but who’s going to top someone with handcuffs on?” “It can be done.” “By who?” “Anyone. Well. Except for you, Dinesh.” “Fuck you.” “Yeah, you wish.”)

“SHUT UP!” Richard shouts, covering his ears with his hands. The room falls quiet. Jared holds a hand to Richard’s chest, soothing softly. His heart is beating so fast. 

“Gilfoyle wins,” Jared whispers then. He just wants it all to be over. “I am, in fact, the one to be cuffed.”

“Hell yeah,” he cheers, grabbing the handcuffs from Dinesh and throwing them to Richard, “Knew it.”

Richard holds them in his hands like he’s never seen them before, sniffling. “That was so-- so… fucking-- stupid. And, and- unnecessary.”

Jared nods, pressing a kiss to Richard’s temple. “Come on, let’s get out of here for a bit. Take a walk,” Jared suggests, and Richard nods shakily. 

“I can’t fucking believe I have to give you money now,” Dinesh mutters, “I barely have fifty fucking dollars. This is so unfair.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you have zero sexual intuition.”

“Fuck you, Gilfoyle. You fuckin’ immigrant.”

Gilfoyle sputters. “You’re an immigrant too, dumbass.”

Dinesh mutters under his breath, “Fuck you.”


End file.
